Rising from the Ashes
by frecklesncurls
Summary: It is the apocalypse. Sam and Dean are lost on what to do next until Castiel tells them of a "weapon" that have angels talking and, more importantly, demons running. They search out this weapon and what they find is not what they expected. With this weapon in hand, the Winchesters have a chance to fight what they started: the end of the world.
1. Chapter 1

**First fanfiction piece here, people. Hope you enjoy! Gosh, I have missed creative writing. Also, I'm currently on Season 5, so this is coming from the information I know about characters/plot so far, so if I'm ahead of where you are in the series, be warned! Possible spoilers!  
><strong>

Chapter 1- The Weapon

_God, what I wouldn't give for some pie right now._

Dean checked the clock on the small bedside table a few feet away from him. In glowing red letters, it hummed that 3:30 in the morning was too late for pie, meaning it was too late for Dean to still be awake.

It was a miracle to get sleep nowadays. With Sam setting off the apocalypse, sleep was now a luxury for Dean. It seemed that whenever he thought he had gotten Sam out of dodge, Sam got himself knee-deep in something even worse.

More danger. More lives at stake. More Sam is at stake. Less sleep for Dean.

Dean was awoken from his thoughts as he heard a small snore from the other bed in the room. He let a smile stretch across his lips as he watched Sam sleep. The kid was lying on his stomach, sprawled out with each of his limbs hanging off the edge. No cheap motel bed could adequately hold Sam's towering height, leaving the younger brother with few options on sleep positioning. He developed a system over the years, which seemed to be successful, according to the second snore that escaped his lips. It was incredible how easily he could sleep with the world quickly becoming more chaotic by the day.

That was it, though. Dean's job was to make it easy for Sam to sleep at night. He was the big brother and that meant he was supposed to take care of his little brother. He was supposed to bear the weight that Sam's shoulders couldn't, or shouldn't have to, carry. As unfair as it felt sometimes, Dean was willing to grimace and move on. He went to Hell for Sam. Compared to that, what was a little stress to Dean Winchester?

Dean's stomach growled menacingly under the cheap sheets. Dean could hold his ground in more areas than not and would fight tooth and nail to hold that ground. However, when it came to hunger, Dean was a pansy. He glanced at the clock again, then at the keys that were lying next to it. _I could leave really quick. I wouldn't be longer than ten minutes, fifteen at the most. That's plenty of time to grab a slice. _His stomach objected, a little louder this time. _Okay, maybe two. Three if Sam would eat one. Yeah, I'll grab it for me and Sammy._

His fingers almost touched the keys when a familiar voice said, "Dean. Get up."

Dean started and instinctively reached for the knife under his pillow. He searched for the intruder and found him standing in the middle of the room, wearing a disheveled trench coat and a slightly confused look.

Dean sighed, stuffing the knife back under the pillow. "Jeez, Cass. Don't you believe in letting people sleep? I mean, I get that the world is ending and all, but how am I to get anything done without some beauty sleep?" Dean gestured to the developing bags under his eyes for good measure.

Cass urged, in a slightly louder voice, "There is no time. You need to leave immediately."

Dean shushed him and motioned towards Sam. During the whole conversation, Sam hadn't awoken and Dean wanted to get some answers before taking Sam away from the first good night sleep he had had in a long time.

Dean threw back the covers and shivered as he put on the pair of jeans he had left on the floor. "What's the rush? Hold on, how'd you find us anyways? I thought we had an angelic Invisibility Cloak carved into our rib cages."

Cass cocked his head ever so slightly. "You told me that you would be here if I should have need of you. At 118 Oliver Way."

Dean rubbed his hands over the stubble on his face. _I need a shave…and a few doses of sleeping pills._ "You're right, Cass. I forgot. So, you 'have need of us'?"

Cass stared at Dean. Dean had at first been thrown off by Cass' intense stares, but had become numb to the soul-piercing baby blues over time. He hardly noticed now.

"Yes, Dean. I may have found our weapon against the apocalypse. The asset to defeat Lucifer."

Dean felt his eyebrows raise in surprise. Cass always seemed to lean towards the dramatic, but defeating the King of Hell was outright crazy talk. It had been thrown around once or twice, but Dean never really thought could be achieved. _Could Cass really have found a way to end all of this?_

Dean threw a pillow at Sam, who awoke and clumsily grabbed for the knife under his pillow. Dean shouted, "Hey, sleepy head. We have a visitor."

Sam squinted at Cass, knife still raised in the air. Cass calmly switched his gaze from the knife to Sam. After a moment, Sam lowered his hand and mumbled groggily, "Hey, Castiel."

After Sam got dressed with his eyes half open and Dean relayed the news, the two brothers each sat on their bed, both facing Castiel in anticipation for an elaboration. Cass replied by staring at them both.

Dean and Sam shared a glance. "Um…plan on sharing with the class in this century, Cass?"

Castiel resumed, "I have heard talk from angels of something powerful. Something that demons fear. It has been only brief bits of information, scattered and random. I think they are trying to keep their knowledge of this weapon secretive. The demons would quickly destroy anything they thought we would use against them."

Sam asked, "Do you know what this 'weapon' is? What it does?"

Dean interjected, "Does it kill demons? Is it some name-brand holy water? A special kind of demon-downing knife? A lifetime supply of salt?"

Castiel shook his head. "All I know is the address to find it at. You must leave now though. You may not be the only one looking for her and you do not want to cross paths with opposition. Evil is growing stronger."

Dean met eyes with Sam and they exchanged a look. The hope of an end to all the fighting, the chasing, the constant paranoia was almost too good to believe. Still, hope was one of the only things to cling onto these days. Without hope, Dean knew he wouldn't have lasted as long as he had so far. _It's worth checking out, at least._

Sam grimaced and Dean nodded. They knew what they were going to do. Dean slapped his knees as he stood. "Well, Cass. I guess we'll be needing that address…and the closest place with a slice of pie."


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry about all of this character development and inner struggle stuff. Talk about SNORE! I promise, some butt-kicking is on its way!**

Chapter 2- The Little White Church

Two days of driving and the inside of the Impala was silent. It was Dean's turn to drive, leaving Sam to get some sleep and Dean time to think.

While they had mostly patched up, the Winchester brothers' relationship was still, in a word, uncomfortable. Dean still felt a bitter taste in his mouth as he recalled the most recent event: Sam abandoning him for Ruby, a demon who used the younger Winchester to leave the gate of Hell wide open for the man himself, Lucifer. Dean tried to blame the whole ordeal on the black-eyed home wrecker, but deep down, he knew it was Sam who closed the door on Dean, not Ruby. While Dean had come to a point to where he could forgive Sam, the relationship had still taken damage. No matter how many times Sam apologized and Dean forgave, there was always going to be the fact that Sam released Lucifer and began the end of the world in the back of Dean's mind.

A pothole awoke Dean from his thoughts and brought him back to the present. He stroked the Impala's dash and cooed, "Sorry, Baby. I'm a little out of it today."

He read the address Sam had scribbled on a napkin again. It was taking them to the southeastern part of Ohio, a small town by the name of Circleville. Sam had researched it while Dean packed their stuff, but nothing stood out in the results.

Sam had asked, squinting at the luminated computer screen, "Don't you think there would be _something_ happening if this 'weapon' is such a big deal? Someone had to have seen or heard something if it got to Castiel, right?"

Dean glanced up from the clothes he was stuffing in a plastic bag. "I don't know, man. If demons are trying to keep this 'weapon' to themselves, they probably don't want to stir up trouble."

Sam nodded and stared back down at the computer screen. "I suppose so. Hey, Dean?"

Dean continued to pack. "Yeah, Sammy?"

"Do you think this could be it? Our shot at stopping Lucifer? At…cleaning up my mess?"

Dean stopped and bit the inside of his cheek. He could hear the hope in Sam's voice and after years of hearing that same hope, he still couldn't squash it. He turned to his little brother and felt an even stronger pang of guilt. Sam wasn't doing too well hiding what he wanted to hear Dean say. His green eyes still did that dopey doe-eyed thing that suckered both Dean and their dad countless times. Dean felt the words weigh down on his tongue, but he chose to swallow them. He grinned at Sam, saying nonchalantly, "I don't see why not. Lucifer has to have a weakness too. We'll just have to find it."

Sam gave him a small smile, then closed the computer with a snap and started to pack. When Sam turned his back, Dean let his own smile drop and started tying his shoes. He had stopped trying to fool himself a long time ago.

Another pothole shook Dean out of the past. He swore under his breath. _Haven't these people ever heard of asphalt?_

Two hours later, Dean found the address Cas had given them. In front of him was a small, white church sitting on top of a grassy hill. It was October, so the leaves had already changed and were starting to dot the grass with a spectrum of colors. The church was graced with a small cross on its steeple and a few cars in the parking lot.

Dean rolled up the graveled driveway and parked in the parking lot. Sam blinked and sat up, stretching his arms so they touched each side of the car. "Are we here?"

"Yep." Dean held up the napkin and pointed at a sign with chipping paint and a matching address. "'Circleville Community Church'." He turned to his brother. "Get any sleep?"

Sam tucked his long hair behind his ears. "Not really. Just kind of dozed in and out."

Dean nodded and squinted up at the building. There were lights on inside, letting off a soft, orange glow. Dean never felt comfortable in churches. He never took the time to analyze why and was content with steering clear of them whenever possible. He squirmed at the warmth the light seemed to emit in the pit of his stomach.

Sam commented, "Looks like there are people inside."

Dean swallowed the nausea he began to feel. "Yeah." He opened the door and got out of the Impala. Sam followed suit. After a moment, Dean turned to Sam, resting an elbow on the hood of the Impala. "I don't know, Sam. This doesn't look like a place to hide a demon-killing weapon. Sure you got the address, right?"

That's when they heard the scream.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for it being so long since there was an update. Got them written, but did a lot of editing before I was satisfied to post. Here's a gift of TWO chapters in one update for your patience!  
><strong>

Chapter 3- The Demon  
><span>

The double doors at the front of the church crashed open as Sam and Dean charged in. Dean had his shotgun raised and Sam clutched the demon knife, poised and ready for whatever lay behind the church doors.

The scene in front of them was eerily silent and out of the five strangers who stood by the church alter, not a single head turned towards the Winchesters. The attention of the group was all to the center, where a teenage girl sat hunched over in a chair. Her whole body was tense, her hands white from gripping the edge of the seat. Dean could hear her heavy breathing from the back of the church. Something was wrong.

A man stood in front of her, his hand firmly grasping her head. His peppered hair shook as he shouted, "In Jesus' name, leave her!"

The girl flinched, then snapped her head up at the man. Dean felt Sam tense up as they saw the girl's eyes were completely black. She was possessed.

She cocked her head, grinning evilly at the man. "You've grown weak in your old age, pastor. You'll have to do better than that to get me to vacate her."

The pastor faltered for a moment, then yelled angrily, "Quiet, demon! I said leave her!"

Dean had never seen anyone react to a demon possession like this guy before, especially a pastor. Most of the people they encountered in their travels would have been high tailing it to the nearest police station by now, screaming the whole way there. While he knew chatting with the demon wouldn't do any good without a little help from holy water and an exorcism reading, Dean was curious to see how this guy's method played out.

Sam began to step forward, but Dean held his jacket sleeve. "Wait." As Dean spoke, the girl's head turned towards the brothers. She sneered, "Well, well. Look who decided to join the party: The Winchester boys."

Every eye followed her gaze and found Sam and Dean. The girl was the only one who didn't look surprised at the new arrivals. Dean lowered the gun slightly, trying to look the least threatening possible. Under the circumstances, he knew it was a weak attempt at best. They weren't exactly dressed in their Sunday best and toting a shotgun probably didn't help. Inducing panic in a group of Bible thumpers was the last thing Dean needed to add to the already sticky situation.

The girl tried to stand, but the pastor yelled, "I command you to sit!" She fell back into the chair, gripping the sides again. She struggled, as if invisible ropes bound her. She gritted through her teeth, "You two would show up here. You know, you're far too curious for your own good."

Sam yanked away from Dean's grip and growled, "You talk too much for your own good." He turned to Dean and whispered, "We don't need this, Dean. Let's waste her."

The girl piped in. "Oh, aren't you eager? Just how do you plan to do that, Sammy? You wouldn't stab a thirteen year old girl, would you?" She jerked her chin towards a couple that was staring horrified at her. "Her parents wouldn't like that too much."

Dean saw Sam spinning the knife blade agitatedly in his hand. He knew Sam was eager to prove himself trustworthy to Dean and the oldest Winchester feared what Sam was willing to do blindly to earn that trust. He was too much like their dad in that way, thinking the least when it counted the most. Dean warned quietly, "Sammy…"

The girl smirked at Dean. "Oh, stop it, Dean. You're spoiling all of Sam's fun." She turned towards Sam and whispered seductively, "You know, Sam. You wouldn't need to kill her if you…jumped back on the wagon." She held out her arm and said, "It's a win-win. You save the girl _and_ get a fix. What do you say?"

Dean saw Sam lower the blade slightly, staring at her arm intently. He began to take a step toward her when the girl suddenly flung her body back and released a scream. A voice yelled behind the two Winchesters, "I say that you don't belong here, demon!"

The boys turned to see a young woman standing behind them, her blue eyes focused on the girl. The girl let out another scream, shielding herself from the woman. She wailed, "Please! Please stop!"

The woman walked between Sam and Dean, continuing, "You will leave her this instant! You will not return and you will make the others aware that they are not welcome either!"

The girl was now writhing on the floor, howling, "Stop, please! I'll go, I'll go!"

The woman reached her hand out towards the girl and commanded, "In Jesus' name, leave!"

The girl threw her head back and black smoke escaped her mouth. As the smoke evaporated, the girl collapsed, unconscious. The woman kneeled down beside her, inspecting her. As the woman checked to make sure the girl was okay, the pastor watched the whole ordeal, pale and quiet. When done, the woman touched his shoulder, awaking him from the shock. She said quietly, "She should be fine, but I think you should call 9-1-1." She turned to the parents, who had both fallen to the floor and were clutching the girl's body. "Just as a precaution."

Dean watched the scene in shock. She had exorcised that demon with a few words, no weapon or chanting needed. Even Sam had needed demon blood to exorcise a demon out of someone without killing them and afterwards, he could hardly stand. This chick was hardly out of breath. _Oh, God. She can't be it…_

Dean quietly whistled, signaling his brother that it was time to leave. It took a quick yank on Sam's jacket to get him to register. Sam shook himself awake and turned to Dean. He mouthed, "Is she the…?" Dean nodded. She was what they were looking for, their weapon. They needed to talk shop somewhere else and figure out what they were going to do next. Their world-saving weapon being a 5'6" woman was definitely a hitch in what little of a plan they had.

The two Winchesters slowly began to back away when the young woman spun on her heel and marched towards them. She yelled, "Hey! You two! Wait a minute!"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4- The Exorcist

Dean and Sam both glanced at the door, then at each other. She was too close to outrun, which meant she had to be outsmarted. They turned to her, smiling while tucking their weapons behind their backs.

She slowed to a stop in front of them. She switched her gaze between them, then said quietly, "Is there a reason you'll be needing that?" She looked down at the shotgun poking behind Dean's back, then back to him.

Now that Dean got a good look at her, he saw how young the woman was. Her commanding presence made her seem much older at first glance, but up close, he saw she couldn't have been past twenty-five. _She's hot too._ Her deep red hair cascaded down in big, lazy curls, stopping at her chest. She wore a dark green shirt that intensified her crystal blue eyes. Her nose was slightly crinkled, drawing attention to the fading freckles on her cheeks.

Giving her one more look down, Dean slowly brought both arms out in surrender, then placed the shotgun down on a nearby pew. Sam did the same with the demon knife. Dean said suavely, "Nah. We just like to stir up trouble." Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Sam roll his eyes.

The pastor perked up at the sound of Dean's voice, stood, then yelled, "I want them out of here!"

The woman spun around and said indignantly, "Excuse me?"

The pastor stomped down to the threesome and pointed his finger at Sam and Dean, their arms still up. "I want these devil-worshipers out of here now!"

Dean snorted and even Sam cracked a smile. Dean asked, "You think we're devil worshipers, pastor? C'mon. Do we look like the blood-chugging, spell-chanting type?"

The pastor glared at Dean. He growled, "That infernal thing knew your names: Sam and Dean. I have never heard a demon use names before."

The woman turned to Dean and whispered inquisitively, "Is that true?"

Dean opened his mouth to answer when the pastor grabbed his shirt and pulled him close enough to touch noses. He snarled, steadily growing louder, "I know something is not right about you two. Are you Satanists? Are you affiliated with it? Did you summon it into Lucy?"

The woman stepped in between the two men, just as Dean was going to rip the old man a new one. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder and her voice softened. "Pastor John, your granddaughter is going to be fine. These men are not the enemy. That demon and the evil it serves is."

The pastor's eyes were shining with tears as he stared back at Dean. After a moment, the anger faded and he released Dean's shirt. He whispered, "I'm sorry, son." Dean was unsure what to do next. The old man looked pitiful and worn out, which made it near impossible for Dean to hold a grudge against him. However, actually exhibiting this was the hard part. Handling the people part of the job effortlessly again, Sam put a hand on the pastor's other shoulder and said consolingly, "She's going to be okay, Pastor John." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "She'll be weak, but she'll be okay. We've seen this before."

Dean clenched his jaw, knowing his brother had given too much away. The pastor didn't seem to notice, sniffing as he patted Sam's shoulder in gratitude before walking back to the family. Dean knew that last statement wouldn't get past the red head so easily, so he clapped his hands together. "Well, we have to be going. Nice meeting you. Hallelujah and all that." He snatched up the shotgun and strode out of the building, hoping Sam had followed suit.

He opened the trunk of the Impala, placing the shotgun back in its proper place. He heard the heavy clomp of Sam's stride behind him, then beside him. Sam was placing the knife back in its pouch when Dean whispered over to him, "You nearly gave us away, dude. I don't care if the Pope is crying on your shoulder, you don't make rookie mistakes like that."

Sam turned to his brother and smiled. "I know what I'm doing." Dean was about to ask for an explanation when he heard someone say behind him, "Well, you guys take the Boy Scout's motto pretty seriously."

Dean glared at his brother before turning around, coming face to face with the woman again. She was grinning, making the Boy Scout hand gesture with her right hand, her left tucked behind her back. "Be prepared and all that."

Dean's mouth twinged upwards at her recycling his joke. He wore a mockingly serious expression and said solemnly, "Haven't you heard? The zombie apocalypse is happening any day now. We have to be ready."

The woman smiled, then peered around Dean. "So, holy water is the way to do zombies in? Wouldn't have guessed that…Dean."

Dean replied as he snapped the trunk shut. "Like I said, we have to be ready. For anything." _She's a quick one too_.

She smirked, putting her hands on her hips. She asked, "Your brother had said you hadn't eaten for a while. Would you guys like some breakfast for dinner? I know a great spot…I'll even cover the bill."

Dean looked to his brother and found him smiling smugly back. Sam knew he had baited her well and had even succeeded in getting a free meal out of it. Dean rolled his eyes at him, then looked back to the woman. He shrugged nonchalantly and said, as he walked to the driver's side door, "We'll follow you…" He looked over his shoulder. "Um, didn't catch a name."

She had already started walking to her car. She tossed over her shoulder, "Naomi."

Once Sam was in the Impala and Naomi in her Honda Civic, Dean said, "Well, this is a first. I'm going to dinner with a class A exorcist."

Sam grinned. "Who comes with the _highest_ of recommendations."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Too far, Sammy. Too far."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5- The Truth

Dean found himself pulling into a parking space along the main square of the quaint downtown area. He got out of the car, scanning for a neon sign advertising breakfast, finding none. In fact, besides a few local businesses, there weren't many signs advertising anything. He called out to Naomi, who had parked in the space in front of him, "We don't eat souls for breakfast, Ginger. We need real food and I'm not smelling any."

Naomi rolled her eyes at the nickname, grinning. "Wow, aren't you original." She gestured to an old brick building a few feet away from the group. "We're eating here. They're pretty good about offering a wide variety." She looked up to the sky as she counted on her fingers. "Blood sacrifices, firstborns, and for the really picky eaters, eggs and bacon."

Dean returned the eye roll as he walked over to the building. He mumbled, "She's a comedian too. Perfect." Sam smirked behind him as he followed.

A small bell rang above the door frame, welcoming the trio into a small café. An eclectic collection of tables and chairs dotted the room, some under various small rugs while others rested on the dark hardwood floor. Soft jazz music played softly over the intercom, temporarily interrupted by an order being called.

Dean grabbed Naomi's arm, spinning her around to face him. "What about this place did you think tailors to us?" He gestured between him and Sam, garbed in dirty jackets and worn jeans, then at the restaurant. "This looks like a hippie commune rest stop."

Naomi playfully shoved his arm off of her. "C'mon, it isn't that bad. I've heard talk that this is one of America's best kept secrets." She pointed to the chalkboard menu hanging on the wall. "See, they have all sorts of stuff: muffins, crepes and pancakes."

Dean whined, "Whole wheat pancakes! That's not even real pancakes! What's wrong with white flour?"

Sam elbowed Dean in the ribs. He whispered, "C'mon, Dean. She's paying, so she's allowed to pick the place. We're eating here."

Dean glared at his brother, then shot a mock smile to Naomi, who smugly had her hands resting on her hips. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

Naomi smiled coyly before patting his arm as she walked up to the counter to order. "Don't worry, Dean. Stranger things have happened than whole wheat pancakes."

Dean exchanged a look with Sam. He murmured under his breath, "You have no idea."

After they had ordered their food, they sat at the corner table farthest from the door. Dean flopped into the chair where he could best see the front door while Sam found the seat where the back was most visible. Naomi looked between the two's seating arrangement, then snuggled into the armchair next to Sam.

The three were silent. Neither Dean nor Sam knew how to address their presence at the church nor the fact that Naomi was the key to stopping the oncoming apocalypse. After a few minutes of looking for a conversation starter, Naomi said, twirling her drink straw, "So, you guys are accustomed to demons, huh?"

The two boys started at her abruptness. Sam stuttered, "I-I guess you could say that."

She asked, "Are you two missionaries?"

Dean nearly choked on his coffee. "Do we look like missionaries to you?"

She bit her lip. "Evangelists?"

A corner of Sam's mouth turned up as he shook his head.

Naomi threw her hands up in the air. "All right, I have no idea then. I have never seen two people more calm in a possession situation before and trust me, I have seen my share of them."

Sam asked, "Wait. How many possessions have you dealt with?"

Naomi shrugged as she sipped her milk. "At least a hundred."

Dean stared at her, shocked. "How old are you?"

Naomi stiffened a little. "Twenty-five. Why does that matter?"

Dean shook his head, ignoring the question. "You must have been doing this since you were in diapers. Is this your job? Exorcising demons?"

Naomi shrugged again. "Not really. I'm usually invited to speak at different churches on what the Bible says about the supernatural. I usually talk about the different situations that I've encountered too, but that's more for bringing the point home. Pastors want their congregations to be aware that there is a war going on that we can't see. That's why I was at the church tonight; for their evening service." She smiled. "It's usually rare for the supernatural to meet me at the door."

Dean could feel his mouth hanging slightly open. He closed it. This chick knows more about what's going on than most of the world. Dean leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. "Do you think we're in the apocalypse?"

Naomi thoughtfully bit her lip before answering. "I think that there is a lot of evidence of the End Times being closer than we want it to be. Revelation talks a lot about natural disasters, wars, the death toll rising. A lot of that is happening now, so I guess we could be in the middle of it. However, while we may think this is bad, there could be a 'worse' coming down the road. Jesus is supposed to come back after the End Times and the Bible says we won't know when that will be. Short answer long, I don't know."

Dean looked to his brother. Sam was nodding, agreeing with every word. He is into the whole religious thing. I guess it isn't too shocking he's on the same page as her. Dean shook his head. "You really believe in God and the whole Jesus-is-coming-back stuff?"

Sam shot Dean a glare, but waited to hear Naomi's reply.

Naomi smiled softly. "I do. I get it, it's a lot to swallow." She placed her cup down on the table, then leaned towards Dean. "Look, I won't claim that I know all the answers. In fact, the more I grow in my faith, the less I realize I know. However, that's the whole point of faith. To trust that Someone is taking care of everything and has a good plan for me, even when I don't understand the whys and hows."

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but the food's arrival silenced him. As the waiter placed the plate in front of him, Dean tried to not drool. The pancakes were covered in chocolate chips and drenched in maple syrup. They smelled delicious and it took everything in him to put on a grimace for show. He poked at the stack with a fork, ignoring the steam that floated from the food. He wasn't about to let Sam get the satisfaction of proving him wrong.

Sam rolled his eyes, picking up a half of his breakfast burrito. "Will you just give it a try?"

Dean gave one more sneer before cutting a wedge of pancakes and stuffing it into his mouth. He suppressed a groan. It tasted even better than it looked.

After the three had eaten quietly for a few minutes, Naomi stated, "You know, you guys still never answered my question."

Dean met his brother's eyes over the coffee mug he was drinking out of. He replied, around a mouthful of pancake, "I don't remember a question."

"Why were you guys so unfazed by the demon?"

Dean chewed, concocting a lie to tell her. He met her eyes, ready to let it loose, when he stopped. Something about her eyes made him pause. After a moment, he realized they were full of innocence. Despite all that she had seen, there still remained ignorance to the ugly truth of the real world that Dean lived his entire life. It seemed like he was always the one to put that light out of others' eyes, out of all the people they came across, and he was tired of it. It made him angry.

He found himself answering. "It's our job to kill them." 


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm so sorry for it being almost a month between posted chapters, guys! Between Finals Week and recovering from Finals Week, I haven't really touched the story in a while. However, that's all over now and I can get back to it! Hoping to post a few more chapters before the spring semester! Again, thank you for your patience, your time, and your comments!**

Chapter Six- The Truth Elaborated

"What?" Naomi held her fork in midair, exchanging a look between them. Sam was staring wide eyed at Dean, his jaw set. "Dean…"

Naomi held up a hand, dropping her fork back on her plate. "No, hold up. What did you say?"

Dean glanced at Sam, who shook his head a fraction. He repeated, as he dunked his piece of pancake in a puddle of syrup, "It's our job to kill demons."

Naomi cracked a smile. "Demons can't be killed."

Dean leaned over his plate, smiling back. "Oh, yes they can. In fact, we think _you _can kill them." He pointed at her with his fork, then ate the pancake off of it.

Naomi turned to Sam, still smiling. "Seriously?" Sam stared back at her, swallowing hard. The smile slowly fell off her face and she turned back to Dean. "You know, what I did back there didn't _kill _the demon. It just exorcised it. It isn't dead."

Dean swallowed. "We know. Like we said, we think you _can _kill demons. We aren't the only ones either."

Sam smacked the table and leaned forward. He hissed through his teeth, "Dean, you're going to scare her off."

Naomi smiled again. "Trust me, Dean. I already know I'm on the Enemy's radar."

The two turned to her. Sam asked, "What do you mean?"

"Look, I've seen more supernatural activity in the past couple of months than I have in years. I've gotten more invitations to speak than I can keep up with. His time of keeping to the shadows is over. He's becoming more open and aggressive."

Sam looked down at his shoes. Dean could almost see the guilt weighing on his shoulders, causing them to pitifully sink. Dean knew they were both thinking of the major reason why Lucifer was having a hay day on the world.

Dean half-heartedly snorted as he met Naomi's eyes. "You make it sound like we're in a war."

Naomi stared somberly at him. "I think we are. The world is under attack and everyone has to make the choice of whether they are going to choose a side or be caught in the crossfires and be put on a side regardless. Good and Evil are fighting over mankind."

Dean stared at her, wary of how wise beyond her years she was. "Care to elaborate?"

Naomi slowly nodded. "Pastor John said that demon knew your names. You're a soul, a prize to be won, just like every other soul on this planet. To Evil, win a soul and they've stolen something precious from Heaven's side. It's their way of getting their jab in."

"I would think there's a lot more of a win to getting a soul then just for bragging rights."

"Not really. We aren't of any use to Satan other than to lead others to him. He hates us, but he hates God more. So, he takes what is most precious to Him for as long as he can."

Dean leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was getting a headache and he could feel his blood pressure rising. _She has no idea what the truth is. She hasn't seen what we have, no matter how many demons she's exorcised. _ "You definitely have a lot to say on the subject."

Naomi shyly twirled her straw. "It's my passion. I could go on for hours."

Sam smiled at her. "Kind of a weird passion, don't you think?"

She smiled back. "You're one to talk. I'm taking it that tonight wasn't your first rodeo with a demon." She looked them over. "You don't really look like this is a part-time thing for you guys either."

Dean mumbled, "I think we clean up better than most. You should see some of the other people we work with."

Naomi cocked her head. "There are others like you?"

Sam interjected, looking uncomfortable with how fast this was moving. "The term we usually use is…'hunters'."

Naomi glanced between them. "Because you…hunt demons."

Dean shrugged, cutting off another wedge of pancake. "Demons, ghosts, vampires, you name it. If it isn't normal, we're there with a loaded shotgun."

Sam suddenly stood up, towering over the other two. "Dean, can we talk outside for a second?" His tone was dark, signaling Dean that a joke would be ill-advised.

Dean wiped his mouth with a napkin, then stood. He turned towards Naomi, who stared worriedly at Sam. "Looks like I'm being summoned. We'll be back soon." He motioned towards his plate as he followed Sam out of the restaurant. "Don't touch my pancakes."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven- The Decision

"Dean! What about _any_ of that was giving her the truth slow and easy?" Sam swung his long arm towards the restaurant. "What were you thinking?"

Dean replied nonchalantly, "She isn't like the other people we've come across, Sammy-"

Sam cut him off, "Exactly! So, why would you just throw it all onto her all at once! She'll run off scared and we'll be back to square one!"

Dean stood up, easing off of the wall he was leaning on, and shrugged. "She knows more about what's going on out there than any of the people we've dealt with. She can handle the truth."

"You don't know that, Dean!" Sam turned to Dean, the lamppost light casting a shadow across his face. They stared at each other for a moment, silent. A look then passed over Sam's face. "It's because she believes in God, isn't it?"

Dean stiffened. "Now, wait a second-"

Sam's boots clomped on the pavement as he walked slowly towards his brother. "It is, isn't it? She makes you feel uncomfortable because she believes in something you don't want to exist, so you want to scare her off!"

Dean met him halfway, their faces close. "Sam, she can believe in whatever she wants! God, Buddha, the Tooth Fairy, I don't care either way!" He paused, taking in a deep breath and a step back. Sam followed suit, turning away from him and running his hands through his hair. "What's got you so hung up on this chick, Sammy?"

Sam spun around. "Her name is Naomi."

Dean raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, Naomi. Why are you so bent on her?"

A moment of tension passed, then Sam's shoulders slumped as he leaned against the wall of the restaurant and slid down to the ground. He rested his elbows on his bent knees and ran his fingers through his hair again. "Dean…she's the only chance we have at cleaning up my mess. We need her. I need her."

Dean kicked at a rock on the pavement. He hated seeing Sam beat himself up over this. As angry as he was that this whole mess was going on, he hated seeing the load his brother constantly wore. Dean knew he couldn't take it away, but he could numb it, make him forget about it, even if for a little while. If that meant giving false hope, he would do it. He'd do anything.

Dean squatted next to Sam. "Look, Sammy. We'll get through this, you and me. If that means with Naomi, great. If not, then we'll figure something else out. I'm not going down without a fight, but I'm gonna need your help. I don't have a chance going solo."

Sam sighed, then lifted his head from his knees. "Yeah." He smiled softly. "You know, you wouldn't be alone. You'd have Castiel."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, an angel who doesn't drink, do girls, or know how to take a joke. He'd be a big help."

"Did I hear someone say 'angel'?"

The two stood abruptly and turned to see Naomi, peeking her head out of the restaurant door. They looked to each other, searching for a reply.

She stepped onto the sidewalk timidly. She crossed her arms over her chest as a gust of wind blew past them. She inhaled deeply, then exhaled, meeting their eyes. "Look, there are a lot of questions I have for you two. We just met and not under the greatest of circumstances. You are a pair of mysteries that I haven't figured out yet and that should make me wary of you." She took in another breath. "Yet, I have this feeling our meeting wasn't an accident and I think you guys know that too. So, if there's something you need me for, I'll do my best to help."

The Winchesters exchanged a look, then looked back at Naomi. She stood still, waiting for them to respond. Sam took an apprehensive step forward, holdng his hand out towards her. "We still have a lot to explain to you, Naomi. You don't know what all you're signing up for yet."

She raised a hand to quiet him. "I know peace, Sam. The moment I saw you two in the church, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace I've only felt twice in my life: when I accepted Jesus into my life and when I was called to ministry. I didn't understand all that I was getting into then, but I knew I didn't need to. All I needed was a step of faith. I'm taking that step again now."

Dean smirked at Naomi despite himself, feeling his resentment towards her starting to crack. "Did you practice that while we were out here?"

She laughed nervously, wiping her hands on her jeans. "Was it that obvious?"

Sam laughed. Dean turned towards his brother, his eyebrows knitting together. He hadn't realized how long it had been since he had heard Sam laugh. For the first time since that day in the church with Ruby, Sam looked happy, free even. While Dean's first reaction was a smile, worry started to creep into the corner of his mind. Dean was not one to call the turnout of a fight before it began, but Sam, with his tendency to hope, was. Dean worried, as he looked in between his brother and their new tag along, that his brother was placing his bet on something that was as vulnerable and bound to fail as they were.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight- The Gun

They had found another motel in town and were making themselves comfortable in their rooms. The Winchesters weren't ready to let their weapon out of sight just yet, but they knew asking Naomi to stay in their room would be a bad idea. Dean still felt like he and Sam were walking on eggshells around her, trying not to scare her from helping them end the apocalypse. Strangely enough, one of those eggshells they were avoiding was explaining that she was the key to ending the apocalypse.

Sam went out to grab some food for the next few days. They didn't know how long it would be until Castiel would tell them the next step of the plan, so they decided to prepare for a wait. Dean and Naomi stayed behind at the motel room to unpack. Dean never unloaded much from the car, so he began checking their weapons as Naomi entered the room, toting a single suitcase and backpack. Dean glanced up from the shotgun he was cleaning, taking note of her luggage. "You travel light for a girl."

Naomi smiled at him as she hefted the backpack onto the bed. "I try to. As much as I travel, I can't really afford to pay for lots of luggage every time I fly."

He stopped scrubbing the barrel with the cleaning cloth. "You flew here? What about your car?"

She unzipped her backpack, rifling through it. "It's a rental I got from the airport. Between insurance and maintenance, my ministry doesn't really support the money necessary to keep a car."

As Dean took a closer look, he noticed the old airport tags attached to different parts of her suitcase. Several were faded and shredded to a point of being indecipherable. He would have let the matter go, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Where all have you been?"

Naomi paused from unpacking, meeting Dean's eyes. He felt the corner of his mouth twitch at the sight of the spark in her eyes. Her love for what she did was evident in the way her smile slowly spread across her face. He could tell she had had adventures, exploring as she made her way across the States. Dean had missed out on the tourism aspect of traveling over the years. When they visited a new place, the focus was always to get the job done, then move on to the next small town in trouble. There were very few times he could ever recall doing his own exploring beyond a case.

She suddenly jumped onto the bed Dean was sitting on and scooted close to him. "Where do you want to hear about first? I once exorcised seven demons out of a teenage boy in New Orleans. Best birthday present I've ever gotten. I also gave a woman CPR by Mount Rushmore after she had collapsed after hiking for a few hours."

Dean found himself leaning in close, her excitement magnetizing him, drawing him closer. "Definitely giving a woman CPR. I wouldn't expect you to be so dirty as to put your mouth on another woman's, Mother Teresa." He winked at her.

She gasped and shoved him playfully away. "I was saving her life! Get your head out of the sewer!"

He smirked. "I think the expression you're thinking of is 'get your mind out of the gutter'."

She smirked. "I think the expression I'm thinking of is not appropriate to say out loud."

Dean found himself grinning. She smelled like vanilla, but it was so faint that Dean had to lean even closer to smell it again. "You know, after all the demons you've come across, I'd think you'd be more equipped with better comebacks than that."

She laughed so loud, Dean didn't hear the key turning the lock on the door. Sam opened the door, carrying several plastic bags in each hand. The pair turned towards him and Dean watched a look cross over Sam's face, disappearing as quickly as it came.

Sam looked between the two as he closed the door behind him. "Did I miss something?"

Naomi wiped at her eyes as she climbed off the bed. "No, no. Dean was just being snarky."

Sam turned to his brother, his voice subtly quieter. "Yeah, he does that."

Naomi walked towards Sam and took a few of the bags from him. "Here, let me help you with these." A smile returned to Sam's face as he obliged. "Thank you."

Dean watched Naomi and Sam crouched by the mini-fridge, sorting through the groceries and placing them where they belonged. He noticed how they didn't have to talk much as they slowly put the groceries away. They seemed to be in sync, knowing what went where, passing beer bottles and cracker boxes back and forth. A flash of an image of them doing the same in the kitchen of a house with toys strewn across a hardwood floor passed through Dean's head. He scowled down at the shotgun he had abandoned and began scrubbing at it, not noticing how hard he was rubbing.


End file.
